Glory
by thefakeflowers
Summary: Betty seemed so vulnerable when she was with "Bond Girl" Theresa (Teresa?), I felt like that night needed to be explored a little.


The room seemed to repeat itself as though Betty had had too much to drink as Theresa deepened their kiss. She had never, ever kissed someone like this.

Although she'd gone all the way with Ivan, they'd never shared a kiss this passionate. That, or she was too drunk to remember if they had.

Betty placed her hands on Theresa's shoulders, wanting to pull her closer but afraid of what it would feel like if she did.

Her brain scarcely registered Theresa's tongue gracing her lips and gliding between them when Betty felt her knees give. "...Wait." Betty pulled away for a moment, her breathing heavy, half from the kissing, half from nerves. She retreated backwards to the lamp on her table and switched it off. Betty realized she was stalling again and it angered her.

_Why am I so damn nervous? She probably think I'm a…_

The word "prude" came to the forefront of her consciousness, though she, on technicality, had more experience than several other girls in the boarding house. Many of them were still very young or had newly fled their mother and father's homes in search of work and a new life, like…

x

Light from the street lamps below filtered in through the grit covering her window, illuminating the room enough for her to still make out Theresa's face in the dark. The other woman looked at her with a kind of coy certainty. Betty knew she must've worn the expression of an awkward schoolgirl, picked to dance at a social by some popular boy, when she thought she'd be a wallflower the whole night. She couldn't rearrange her expression and bluff herself out of this one, though. Betty found she could not conjure her usual easy cockiness when she was around Theresa.

Her mind raced. The thought of her friends still at the Cavalcade and watching the fireworks, wondering where she had gone made her face become hot.

"I...," Betty began, barely moving her lips.

Before the blonde could continue, the dark-haired woman shrugged off her coat and began to loosen her tie, all while maintaining eye contact with Betty.

Betty suddenly found herself fighting a mixture of excitement and panic, the latter quickly unfurling itself in the pit of her stomach. She felt jittery and alert, like when she drank too much tea before working the line.

She had fantasized about what _this_ would be like more times than she'd ever admit to anyone, but now that it was happening she wanted to run right out the door. It scared her, feeling like she suddenly desperately needed something she'd gone twenty-eight years without. She resented Ivan while they were dating (she hated remembering it now) for all the times he tried getting fresh with her. Betty dimly registered a new sense of understanding as Theresa strode towards her, unbuttoning her blouse slowly as she did so. She realized she'd been standing away from the other woman, frozen, for longer than she meant to.

"Come here," Theresa whispered. The woman lightly graced Betty's arm with her fingertips, guiding her, and the blonde backed into the bed. The crook of her knees bumped the edge, and slowly, finally, she was on her back.

Betty decided then she was too proud to tell Theresa the closest she'd come to _this _was letting her imagination run wild while "reading" a girly magazine.

x

"Oh… it really _has _been a long time…" Theresa grinned against Betty's ear, her head dipped against her cheek.

Theresa's hand was up her skirt, and for a moment Betty was sure she'd faint like one of those girly-girls in romance pictures she'd usually roll her eyes at. She hadn't realized how wet she was, but now that the brunette pointed it out, her arousal was unmistakable.

Theresa was holding herself up on top of her, and Betty felt like Hitler himself could barge into the room and she wouldn't notice. Her senses were overwhelmed by Theresa's presence. The dark-haired woman above her was the only thing that could possibly exist—her smell, the way her lipstick was smeared across her chin, what she could see between the folds of the other woman's half-undone blouse.

Betty swallowed, and suddenly she felt ready. She wanted this, and why shouldn't she? She thought of Vera and Gladys, having their fun with soldiers. And, Kate…

She had watched every other woman live her life the way she wished she could from the bar, the sidelines, the outside, for so long. And she wanted this.

The blonde closed her eyes and pulled Theresa back into a kiss. Eyes shut, Betty fumbled feeling for Theresa's blouse and hastily unbuttoned the few buttons there were left. She undid her own top and wrestled herself out of her slip and underclothes.

Theresa unclasped her own bra as Betty opened her eyes. The blonde made a conscious effort not to look awed, though the site of Theresa nude from the waist up made her ache painfully between her legs.

Betty kissed her then, sliding her tongue into the other woman's panting mouth. The blonde slowly pressed one hand, fingers splayed, against one of the brunette's breasts. She clasped Theresa's hand, pulling it to her and pressing the woman's fingertips where she needed them.

"Well, go on then, soldier," she breathed.

x

Betty was always particularly annoyed when one of the other girls managed to sneak a gentleman friend into the boarding house for the night. She remembered having taken many a broom handle to the ceiling in the time she'd spend living there. Eventually, she'd give up her attempts to shut the two lovers up and throw a pillow over her head to mask the sounds.

She never thought she could even _make _those sounds.

Both she and Theresa were completely nude, and Betty had her legs up over Theresa's shoulders. Of course she'd _heard_ of this_. _She'd befriended a few good-time girls who gabbed a lot, and she liked to think she knew a thing or two.

But she wasn't prepared for what Theresa's tongue could do to her. Betty cried out and gasped as Theresa moved her lips over her center and flicked her tongue across the most sensitive part of her. She moaned loudly when the brunette began to suck gently.

_I'm going to… I'm—_

Betty's thoughts became incoherent. Theresa's mouth pressed hotly and more persistently against her. The brunette ran her hands up and down her inner thighs, venturing every now and then to squeeze her backside. Betty clenched her sheets with white knuckles, one arm thrown over her forehead and she thrust her hips upward. Both their bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat despite the drafty room.

"Oh!"

Betty felt her body unravel, but her mind was blank as her orgasm overtook her. She gasped and shook, finding Theresa's mouth in a sticky, hot kiss.

The blonde felt slightly embarrassed about coming so quick (she'd heard from male friends this was something to be ashamed of and felt, for some reason, it applied to her), but as Theresa smiled at her and ran her fingertips gently across her stomach and sides, she didn't much care.

"Sonofa…" Betty trailed off with a breathless laugh.

Theresa sidled next to her and smiled wide.

"So, are you factory girls as good with your hands as they say?" Teresa giggled and Betty playfully nudged her on the arm.

It felt so good, to finally let go.


End file.
